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letra de 9/11 (first day out) - hotboii

[intro]
god, i feel like a million dollars
i can rap in this sh-t
turn me up, ray
ayy, no cap (hey, what’s good, trou?)
in the headphones, turn me up
turn me up in the headphones
i got her head gone
chopper, kut the fan on, yeah

[chorus]
look, brand new kut the fan on chain (yeah), this b-tch cost two hundred k (two hundred k)
how you flex a hundred bands? you place a order at the bank
d.a. tryna legislate, i’m still screamin’, “f-ck the state”
don’t ask me is i’m happy i’m home, stupid, what you think?
uh, and this money, put my blues on, drippy
uh, they could lock me up for sure, but can’t k!ll me
industry miss me, favorite rappеr snitchin’
runnin’ to the booth ’cause his lips sing, alright

[verse 1]
they thought i would nеver jump, i showed ’em i could double dutch
i’ma f-ck her over every time, she got a bubble b-tt
ayy, she go french tip, i tip her with her toes out
ayy, let’s get it crackin’, my b.m., i got a throw somethin’, uh
too clumsy, i be one without a drop, uh
h-llcats in the graveyard, wake up all the opps
ayy, told you ’bout my life, uh, how i made it out
ayy, this the life of hot, just stay real, but still got n-ggas locked up
inmates, they better hear my voice (better hear my voice)
told my son, “i ever go this long without you, it’s by force”
n-gga, pain in my eyes, i never shed tears of joy
n-gga, gang hear my cry they’ll be loadin’ up for war
[chorus]
look, brand new kut the fan on chain (yeah), this b-tch cost two hundred k (two hundred k)
how you flex a hundred bands? you place a order at the bank
d.a. tryna legislate, i’m still screamin’, “f-ck the state”
don’t ask me is i’m happy i’m home, stupid, what you think?
uh, and this money, put my blues on, drippy
uh, they could lock me up for sure, but can’t k!ll me
industry miss me, favorite rapper snitchin’
runnin’ to the booth ’cause his lips sing, alright

[verse 2]
jail talk, devil want my soul, n-gga, h-ll talk
h-ll talk, shorted all the bros, oh, h-ll nah
twenty-three and one, you get an hour out that cell, dog
uh, feds watchin’, they just waitin’ on me to mail y’all
out the bank, that cake be comin’ crispy like it’s funnel, uh (funnel)
my neck be so icy, i could light up me a tunnel, uh (tunnel)
fell asleep in bed with seven b-tches, on my momma
sippin’ codeine on a p.j., hoppin’ off in my pajamas, ayy, uh
and ain’t no more blues, chicken souse junk food
still same, bump too, look what i come home to
ayy, uh, this the life that i belong to
i’m hopin’ that you come with me, i don’t wanna have to coach you

[chorus]
look, brand new kut the fan on chain (yeah), this b-tch cost two hundred k (two hundred k)
how you flex a hundred bands? you place a order at the bank
d.a. tryna legislate, i’m still screamin’, “f-ck the state”
don’t ask me is i’m happy i’m home, stupid, what you think?
uh, and this money, put my blues on, drippy
uh, they could lock me up for sure, but can’t k!ll me
industry miss me, favorite rapper snitchin’
runnin’ to the booth ’cause his lips sing, alright
[outro]
look, ayy
’round ’em back then, now the two tattled in
sh-t crazy, ooh
look at how—
look at how they comin’ for real, how they all be ready

- hotboii

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